Testing Testing
by BlackFox12
Summary: Since the death of John Winchester, Dean has been withdrawing further and further into himself, causing Sam to resort to drastic measures to test his brother’s feelings for him and get his attention
1. Chapter 1

**Testing, Testing**

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic. The plot for this actually comes from a challenge (Firechild's, I think…? Correct me if I'm wrong)

**Summary:** Since the death of John Winchester, Dean has been withdrawing further and further into himself, causing Sam to resort to drastic measures to test his brother's feelings for him and get his attention

**Warning(s):** Um… Spanking; mentions of violence; spoilers for the entirety of season one and up to the current episode of season two

**Author's Note:** I finally thought I'd give this challenge a try… (Because it turned into a plot bunny and clung to my leg until I agreed to at least write out the first chapter). Hope it turns out all right!

* * *

The interior of the car was silent.

There wasn't even the sound of Dean's music blaring out of the speakers; no teasing banter between them.

There hadn't been for quite some time…

Sam sat staring out of the window, feeling tired and heartsick. He had no idea of how to get into his brother's mind and understand just what he was thinking about. _What good are psychic abilities if they won't even let me see how much the closest person to me is hurting?_ Sam wondered bitterly.

The thought that Dean might give his life to get their father back really scared Sam. He wouldn't be able to handle losing his brother. They'd already lost two years when he'd gone to Stanford.

_I don't want that to happen… Losing Dean again… I just can't do it. I was wrong to break all contact with him and dad when I went to university. And all I've been doing is talk about going back again. I should have realised… Dean needs me; he's made that clear so many times. And I've just ignored his needs, his feelings. I know that he loves me and that he'll do anything for me – and I play on that._

Sam needed to tell Dean that; needed to apologise to his brother. But a glance at Dean revealed that his brother's jaw was set in a tight line, and he wasn't even looking at Sam.

Dean barely seemed to see him at all these days…

Sam felt pain knife through him for a moment, and he swallowed, trying to push it away. He just wanted to be a kid for a while and be protected by his big brother. He wanted _his_ Dean back.

Not this cold stranger.

_Does he even care about me anymore? Or does he just see me as a chore? What is he thinking? Does he wish that I wasn't around? Does he think that _I_ should have been the one to sacrifice myself for his life?_ Sam felt tears prick at his eyes. He forced them down with difficulty.

_Dean won't cry anymore… He'd see it as a weakness if I did. I want to be strong for him… I want to be useful._

The scenery rushing by blurred despite Sam's best efforts at keeping the tears inside. What was somehow worse was Dean's apparent lack of care that his younger brother was tearing up inside. It was never like that when they were children…

_Does Dean even really care about what happens to me anymore?_ Sam wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. _I have to… see… if he does… I _need_ my big brother back. I need Dean. And then I can apologise and ask him to forgive me…_

Slowly, Sam allowed his mind to drift to what their next hunt might be. And, as he did, a plan began to half-formulate inside his mind.

Wow… That was kind of depressing to write that. Not sure it was quite what I intended, actually…

* * *

Apologies for the shortness. Hopefully, the next chapter will be a better length. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Testing, Testing**

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic

**Warning(s):** Spanking (or there will be eventually); spoilers up to episode eight of season two; possibly quite depressing; mentions of sexual situations

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this so far! -Hugs-. You're all really great!

* * *

As Sam sipped his beer, he discretely watched Dean from beneath his eyelashes. His brother wasn't looking at him, and seemed to have no desire to even communicate with Sam in any way. In fact, Dean wasn't even making an effort to hit on any of the pretty women who kept directing flirtatious glances at the brothers. 

On second thoughts, Sam wasn't too surprised by that.

Still, Sam felt worried – and very tired… All he really wanted to do was curl up in a corner and go to sleep. He wanted Dean back. He didn't want the cold stranger who didn't seem to care about him anymore.

_Drastic times call for drastic measures…_

Sam took a deep breath, and then pushed back from the table with a little more force than was strictly necessary. "I'm gonna hustle pool," he stated.

Dean shrugged, barely glancing at his brother. "Go ahead," he replied in a flat, emotionless tone.

Sam opened his mouth, but then closed it again. What could he even say? How could he make Dean listen to him? How could he find out whether his brother truly cared about him still or not?

As Sam turned away from the table, he felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He wanted – _needed_ – to cry, but Dean was refusing to. Sam didn't want to show weakness in front of Dean.

But he _was_ going to try and find out just how much Dean cared about him now – if at all. No matter how hard it would be.

The few guys playing pool were easy. Sam had little trouble acting like a naïve young man at first, and by the time he had finished, he had a whole wad of cash. Despite that, though, Sam didn't feel any happier. At least they would be able to find a reasonably good motel to spend a couple of nights in while looking into their new job.

A glance towards his brother revealed that Dean hadn't moved from the table – unless he'd got up to get another beer. Sam frowned worriedly, and headed over to Dean, biting his lip slightly. "Um… Are you all right?" he asked hesitantly.

"There's nothing wrong with me." Dean raised his beer glass and drained the alcohol in one swallow. He then stood up. "Well? Are we going?"

"I guess…" Sam sighed a little to himself. He headed towards the door of the bar, trying to keep his calm. _I don't think Dean cares anymore…_ And _that_ hurt a lot more than anything else…

* * *

Sam watched his brother sleeping, taking in the fact that, at least in sleep, Dean seemed to be more or less peaceful. He knew that Dean tended to sleep quite lightly, as well as with a knife under his pillow. 

But Sam was glad that at least his brother seemed to be sleeping all right…

Sam released his breath in a heavy sigh, and turned his attention back to the laptop screen, feeling lost and unhappy. He narrowed his eyes a little as he re-read the article on the screen, and the information he had found on the particular demon.

Sam was pretty sure that they were looking at a type of _Succubus_ demon. It wasn't a sort that he was all that familiar with – this one seemed to be killing the men she had chosen to sleep with.

_That isn't usual – at least not in most of the cases I've seen…_

Sam recalled the conversation he had had with Dean just before his brother had gone down for the night. Dean had made it quite clear that they were going to wait until after sleeping before going after the demon.

But Sam had just worked out the pattern of the demon – and she was due to strike again that night.

Sam only briefly entertained the notion of waking Dean up. He wanted to prove his usefulness to his brother. Even if Dean didn't love him or care about him as a brother, Sam wanted to be able to do _something_ for him. He wanted to prove his worth, if nothing else.

Sam closed the laptop down, then grabbed his backpack and one of the guns loaded with rock salt before heading quietly out of the motel room.

* * *

Once again, sorry for the shortness… 


	3. Chapter 3

**Testing, Testing**

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic.

**Summary:** See Chapter One

**Warning(s):** Spanking; violence; some making out; spoilers; some mild swearing

**Author's Note:** This is the third and final chapter. Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this fic so far . This chapter is actually also partly borne out of another plot bunny that clung to my leg. (I have a lot of those…) Basically, this would be some kind of proof that Dean would do anything for Sam.

Enjoy!

* * *

Sam walked into the bar, his bag with the gun in slung over his shoulder. For just a moment, Sam wondered if he was making the right choice in doing this. _Do I really want to prove myself to Dean?_ That thought only went through his mind for a moment, though, before Sam pushed it away again.

_At least it'll prove just how Dean feels…_

Sam pulled the EMF reader out of his bag and waved it around, biting his lip slightly. The next moment, he wished that he'd been able to figure out how to turn the sound off without losing the information, since the EMF let out a series of shrill beeps.

A few people turned – presumably to find the source of the sound – and Sam quickly shoved the EMF away again. He had managed to make out what had set the EMF off, though.

A dark-haired woman was sitting at the bar, drinking what seemed like vodka. She didn't turn when the EMF went off, but Sam could see that she had a slender, curvaceous form. She was chatting to the bartender, resting her free hand on lightly on the surface with the fingers slightly curled.

Easy pickings…

Sam headed over to the _succubus_, and sat down on the free stool next to her. "Hi there," he said.

The _succubus_ turned, pinning Sam with dark brown eyes, and a slow smile spread across her face. "Well, hello," she purred. "You looking for a good time, big boy?" She leaned closer to Sam so that her lips were right next to his ear. "I can give you everything you want… Sam Winchester." As she pulled back, she smiled at him, and reached to lightly touch his arm. "I can become your deepest desire."

"You know my name?" Sam watched the _succubus_ warily. He had the gun in his bag – but he would prefer not to have to use it in such a public place. _I'd better play along,_ he decided, and allowed himself to smile gently at the _succubus_. "Why don't we step outside?" he suggested, standing up.

The _succubus_ tilted her head slightly. "Don't you want to get a drink first?" she asked.

_Flattery is probably the best option right now._ "Well… you're so beautiful, I don't want to wait," Sam replied, giving a slightly bashful smile.

The _succubus_ laughed softly, and drained her drink before standing up. "After you," she said, gesturing in front of her.

Sam was a little hesitant about turning his back on the demon. However, he was pretty sure that she wouldn't try anything in such a public place. And he usually had no problem getting the drop on supernatural creatures. Besides, the last thing he wanted was for the _succubus_ to get suspicious.

So Sam headed out of the bar in front of the _succubus_. Then, as he heard the demon exit the bar behind him, Sam pulled the gun out of his bag, and then turned quickly, raising it to aim at the _succubus_.

Except she had changed.

Sam slowly lowered his gun, and stared at the woman now standing in front of him. "Jess…?" he whispered, trembling slightly. He knew that it had to be some kind of trick, but…

It was _her_.

"Oh, Sam." Jessica stepped up to Sam, pressing herself against his body. "I've missed you so much…"

Sam knew that he should shoot her, but all he could think was how much he had missed Jessica. His mind felt almost clouded, and he could hardly think straight. As Jess kissed him, the gun slipped from his nerveless fingers, and then he slowly raised his hands to cradle her chin.

The kiss deepened, and Sam held the woman close, having forgotten completely about the _succubus_. He didn't even react when he felt something cold press lightly against his spine. Then, he gasped, his back arching as he felt something pierce his skin.

Sam tried to pull away, but the demon's hold on him tightened, and she bit down on his lip. He struggled, but felt himself actually starting to become weaker as she started tearing at his shirt.

As dark spots danced in front of his eyes, Sam thought he heard the sound of someone speaking in Latin. The _succubus_ then began screaming, and tried to let go of Sam – but he still possessed enough presence of mind to hang onto her.

The chanting continued while Sam struggled to hold onto the squirming demon. Then, he heard, "Let her go, Sam!"

Sam released the demon, and stumbled back a few paces. He watched as her form started to melt away, even as the demon let out a piercing scream. Then, from above his head, Sam heard the sound of a gun being fired. He ducked automatically, and saw the bullet hit the demon in the forehead. Its body froze, and then slowly dissipated.

Sam slowly crouched to pick up the gun, and then turned round. He wasn't too surprised to see Dean standing there, holding his gun at his side.

Sam took a deep breath. "I can explain."

Dean pinned his brother with a hard stare. "Save it, Sammy," he replied. "The Impala's just round the corner. Get in."

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked.

Dean put his gun away, and walked right up to Sam. He then cuffed his brother lightly on the shoulder. "Get your sorry ass back to the motel."

"We've gotta clear this up," Sam replied.

Dean stared hard at Sam. "One."

Sam immediately flinched, remembering full well what their father meant by counting – and what happened when he got to five. _But surely Dean wouldn't… spank me?_ "Dean," he said, trying to keep the pleading note out of his voice.

"Two."

Sam stared at Dean, starting to feel rather panicked. Then, he got angry. _How can he just stand there like that, so arrogant to think that I'll follow his orders?!_ "You know, I would never have done this if you hadn't…!" he started.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "If I hadn't what?"

Sam looked stubbornly away, refusing to answer his brother's question. _If you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you._

Receiving no response, Dean resumed his counting: "Three…"

Not wanting to cause any more of a scene, Sam quickly made his way towards the car and got in the passenger side. Dean got in as well, his jaw set in a tight line.

The drive back to the motel was silent.

* * *

Sam slowly walked into the room, biting his lip slightly. Dean hadn't said a word at all, and Sam couldn't shake the slight feeling of fear. That one question wouldn't leave him alone and made him tense up and his hands go clammy.

_He wouldn't really… would he?_

Dean slammed the door shut behind him, and then turned to Sam, his eyes narrowed. "So, care to explain to me just what the _hell_ was going through your mind?"

"I worked out what was killing those men and decided to go after it." Even to his own ears, Sam's argument sounded weak. And he definitely didn't like the way Dean was looking intently at him… _I didn't really want the disciplinarian._

"Uh-uh." Dean clearly wasn't buying into Sam's answer. "Sam. Out of all the times we've been hunting, you've always been the one insisting that we take the time to do proper research on everything supernatural we hunt. So I'm not biting, Sammy. So you can either tell me now, or you can tell me later – but you _will_ tell me."

Sam said nothing.

Dean took a step towards his brother. "Now would be a really bad time for you to give me a wrong answer here, Sammy." He began rolling up his sleeves.

Sam instantly took a step back. "Dean, what are you doing…?"

"I'd have thought that was pretty obvious, Sammy." Not giving his brother a chance to react, Dean pounced, and grabbed Sam by the arms. Despite his brother's struggling and squirming, Dean was able to drag him the few feet to the bed, and sit down on it. He then had to all but wrestle the still-fighting Sam across his lap and pin him there with an arm across his back.

"Dean, stop it!" Sam yelled.

"Not gonna happen, Sammy." Dean raised his free hand and brought it down in a swat against his brother's denim-clad backside. "What _possessed_ you to do something so stupidly dangerous?! You think that psychic powers are gonna protect you, huh?!" Dean aimed some sharp swats at the seat of Sam's jeans with every other word.

"No!" Sam yelled, struggling to get away from the stinging smacks – but Dean's hold was too strong.

"Then what is it?!"

"Because you don't care!" Sam yelled out finally, the sting in his behind finally getting to him.

Dean stopped mid-swing, taken aback by Sam's words. "What?"

Dean's grip on Sam loosened, but Sam made no move to get up or try to make eye contact with his brother. "You don't care about me anymore," he mumbled. "Like with the demon at the crossroads. You just want to get dad back. And I don't blame you – because I do as well. But not at the cost of your life. I can't… you're my brother, Dean. But right now, I'm losing you."

Dean shook his head slightly. "Sam…" he ground out. "If you're telling me that this was some kind of test, I swear you're not going to be sitting comfortably for at least a week!"

"You're telling me that my doubts were completely unfounded?" Sam slowly pushed himself up off Dean's lap. "You've been taking your pain out on me, Dean – you even hit me once. You hardly ever talk to me anymore… It's like I don't exist anymore."

"Sam…" Dean closed his eyes for a moment.

Sam looked down, avoiding his brother's eyes. "So, yeah – I was testing you. Can you blame me? I just want my big brother back…"

For a moment, Dean looked pained. Then, "Well, Sam – it's not like putting yourself in danger is a good decision. For one thing, it means that now you're going to get your ass beat for that stunt."

Sam looked at his brother in disbelief. "No way."

"It's going to happen, Sam. Easy or hard, it's your choice. Care to test how mad I am at you for what you just did?"

Sam glanced at the door.

"You'd never make it." Dean eyed Sam. "Jeans down."

Sam wanted to protest – but there was something vaguely recognisable in his brother's tone. A part of Sam knew that his brother was taking charge – and that was what he had wanted, after all. That and proof that his brother still loved him.

It looked like he had both.

Sam stood up, and fumbled with the fastenings of his jeans. Blushing furiously, he pushed them down, and then slowly leaned over his brother's lap again. He made sure that his broken wrist was supported enough, and then waited for Dean to start. Those few swats over his jeans had only been a warm-up, after all.

It was the real thing now.

Sam felt Dean pull his underwear down, and had to fight to not protest that. He wasn't given much time to be concerned about his modesty, though, as Dean brought his hand down in a hard smack.

Sam gritted his teeth, determined to take the punishment in silence, but as the hard smacks continued, he couldn't help wriggling around, trying to avoid them – or at least so that they were spread out over a more or less even area.

Dean paid no attention to his brother's squirming, though, and continued the hard spanking.

As the tears trickled down his face, Sam was hyper-aware of Dean's presence. This was the first time he and Dean had really touched since their father's death – with the exception of when Dean had hit him.

Sam was feeling connected to his brother in a way that he didn't understand.

Unable to help himself, Sam started pleading while the hard, relentless smacks kept coming. He could hear himself making the promises, and was beginning to regret ever doubting his brother's love or care.

Sam finally hung his head and just sobbed. When Dean's punishing hand stopped, he tried to push himself off his brother's knee, but was stopped when Dean pulled his own belt through the loops of his jeans.

"That was for testing me. This next part is for the way you put your life in danger." Dean's other arm tightened over Sam's body, and, wasting no more time, he brought the leather belt down ten times, hard.

By the time it was over, Sam was crying harder than he'd ever thought possible. He was only dimly aware of Dean gently rubbing his back and making soothing noises. It reminded him of when he'd been younger, and Dean had taken care of him after a nightmare…

When he'd calmed down a little, Dean helped Sam to stand up. Sam carefully pulled his underwear back up, but chose to kick his jeans off in favour of finding some cotton pants to wear instead. Before he could, though, Dean pulled him into a hard hug.

Sam clung to his brother, crying into his shoulder. Dean didn't seem to mind, though, and just stood there, holding Sam close.

And Sam finally had his brother back again…

**The End**


End file.
